


Lovely In Hell

by tomo1012



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Demon/Human Relationships, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heaven & Hell, Hell, M/M, Master/Pet, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24207373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomo1012/pseuds/tomo1012
Summary: Ten knew he was going to hell. Even though he was generally a good person, there were signs in his life that he would probably end up down that path. What he did not expect was to meet Winwin, a king of hell who was looking for a new pet.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 36
Kudos: 155
Collections: Weishen Fest: ANYTHING BUT HUMAN





	Lovely In Hell

**Author's Note:**

> *TW: Past trauma is referenced but I don't name/specify it or go into details

Be kind. Help others. Give love. Show respect. Don’t get in trouble. Follow the rules. Be good.

Be good.

Ten knows that he is good. He is really talented yet humble. He smiles warmly to friends and strangers alike, a smile that brightens up the day of anyone who sees it. He is patient and understanding, always a willing ear to listen to others’ problems and give advice. 

Ten knows he is good. He was told so his whole life. What a smart boy, what an obedient child. What a beautiful smile, what a pretty face. In this world, if you are naturally talented and attractive, you are also assumed to be good natured.

Ten is good. He knows this. 

He also knows that he is going to Hell.

*

Be strict. No mercy. Instill fear and respect from others. Trust your instinct. Don’t waver. Be strong.

Be strong. 

Winwin knows that he is strong. He is one of the most powerful Gods across the over and the underworld. He rules as King over the JUDGEMENT & PUNISHMENT domain of Hell, making full use of his superior sense and knowledge, deciding the degree of punishment bestowed upon each damned soul. 

Winwin knows he is strong. He was told so his whole life. It’s why he was chosen to be a King of Hell in the first place. With just a raise of his sculpted eyebrows he can intimidate a whole room of demons. No being dares to defy him. 

Winwin is strong. He knows this.

He is also incredibly lonely.

*

.

.

.

.

Ten wakes up wondering where the hell he is. His body lays bare on an unfamiliar yet extremely comfortable bed, and he is surrounded by warmth. He feels muscled arms wrapped around his waist, and slowly starts to remember the man he met the night before.

Winwin. 

Winwin. The tall, beautiful, mysterious man he approached, who looked to Ten like he held all the answers to the world. With eyes so dark and deep Ten found himself staring unabashedly, approaching him as if in a trance. Ten soon found himself straddling the strangers lap on a leather couch in the middle of the dance floor, boldly kissing him, ignoring that they were in the middle of a club and hadn’t said a word to each other. Winwin’s arms were outstretched and open, welcoming him, expecting him. The blazing eye contact was enough, introductions could wait. 

After a heated make out session with Winwin squeezing Ten’s ass, lightly stroking his thighs through his tight black coated jeans, they whispered introductions into each other’s ears. 

Winwin. The man who laughed with his head thrown back when after an hour of flirting Ten admitted that, “As cute and innocent as I may look I’m definitely going to hell.” In response he kissed him again, then smoothly offered “In that case, stay with me. Come be my pet. I’m the King of Hell.” 

There was a powerful and playful glint in Winwin’s eyes when he made this offer.

Of course, Ten agreed.

And now he’s in his bed. 

The first thought Ten has is to sneak out quietly. As fun as last night was, and as huge as Winwin’s cock was, probably the biggest he’s ever taken now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure he’s ready to be kept as a pet? Even if it was a joke, Ten’s embarrassed that he agreed so easily. He might hate his life at the moment but certainly it wasn’t that bad… 

Right? 

Ten opens his eyes but everything is dark. He can barely make out the features of the room. He doesn’t even remember how they got there actually, but it feels very spacious. All he can see is a faint red glow from outside the window, so it must still be really early. 

Ten shifts to leave but the arms around him tighten. 

The slight movement makes Ten’s head ring, and he realizes that he’s still a buzzed from the alcohol. 

Great.

He reprimands himself internally for always doing this to himself. He always feels fine while drinking, in control even. But he’s twenty four now not twenty, and alcohol just hits differently. 

If he had it his way he’d stay young and unaffected forever. Things were so much simpler when he was twenty. He was happier. Better. Good. 

Ten can feel his thoughts wandering off in all directions but he’s too tired for them. Too tired to think about the past.  
Doesn’t want to think anymore. 

_Why did I even want to leave in the first place? It’s so warm and comfortable in bed. Silly Ten, just go back to sleep. You’ll figure it out later. You can always figure it out later._

.

The second time Ten wakes up there are no arms wrapped around him, leaving his back cold. He groans and stretches himself out on the large bed, arching his back and unfurling his fingers and toes like a cat.

“You’re finally up,” a deep voice says from across the room. 

Ten opens his eyes and now there is a dim glow illuminating the room. He can now see how spacious it really is, much more than he could’ve imagined. 

The larger than king-sized bed he’s on is covered in ornately decorated red and gold covers, with black fur throw blankets at the foot. The ceiling is high and gilded with gold and black designs, with a large gold chandelier hanging from the center. The walls are covered with an ornately printed red pattern, and around the room are matching ruby red velvet couches with black bases and gold trimmings. The floor is laid with black carpet, which combined with the darkness of outside and the rest of the room gives the illusion of it being almost bottomless. 

Ten has never seen so much black, red and gold in his life, and is starting to wonder if he is still dreaming because as far as he remembers there aren’t any palaces in the middle of the city, and it certainly feels like he is in some type of dark victorian castle. 

Finally his eyes settle on Winwin, who is now drying his hair with a towel by a giant gilded floor mirror. He is shirtless and wearing black briefs. 

Just as Ten opens his mouth to say something his mouth drops in shock and eyes widen, noticing large black feathered wings that are folded down his back. 

After a beat of silence a shrilling scream comes out of Ten, and he backs himself up against the headboard. 

_What the fuck is going on._

“What the fuck is going on.” 

“Hello to you too Ten,” Winwin chuckles.

“Are those wings? You didn’t have those when we met last night!”

“I did actually, they were just hidden. You can imagine the response I would’ve gotten if I waltz into the club last night with these out on display.” To make his point Winwin spreads his wings out, displaying his full wingspan with pride. 

“Winwin… What are you?” Ten asks more quietly, but Winwin hears anyway. His sharp ears are focused on Ten. 

“I told you last night, I’m the King of Hell,” Winwin shrugs casually, then moves towards his wardrobe to put on some pants. He opts for a simple pair of red leather pants and pulls them on. 

Ten watches on in stunned silence. Besides the large black wings Winwin seems the same as how he was when they met. He looks relaxed and Ten hates to admit it but really hot too. His damp black hair hangs loosely over his face as he pulls on his pants, and the red leather hugs all the right places. Standing there bare chested with his black wings and red leather pants, Winwin is probably the hottest King Hell has.

Ten can’t believe that he’s checking him out at this time, what the fuck. 

_Maybe if I just focus on how hot Winwin is I can forget the fact that he has giant black wings and has quite literally brought me to Hell._

_As if. Get it together._

Ten still can’t really believe what’s going on but there’s no denying it. He takes deep breaths, trying to ground himself in reality while being faced with how ridiculous the situation he’s in is. 

He just keeps staring at Winwin, stunned. Apparently it wasn’t just a funny conversation and an odd pick up line. 

Winwin really is a King. In Hell. 

He looks around the grand red, black and gold bedroom again, confirming that this is no doubt a palace bedroom. A bedroom fit for a King. Then he looks towards the window. It is surrounded by the same pitch darkness and distant glow as earlier. Fire? He can only imagine what’s going on out there. 

_Later. Deal with that later._

He turns away from the window and looks back at Winwin. He’s kept his distance and is letting Ten take it all in. Watching him with curiosity and a glimmer of hope. 

There isn’t a crazy look in his eyes and he hasn’t tried to do anything to harm Ten. Not yet at least. Technically he hasn’t lied, and he hasn’t made any stalker-ish claims or declarations. 

His demeanor is exactly the same, he is the same guy he had a funny conversation and amazing sex with last night. But now he’s giving Ten space, the space he needs, and isn’t forcing anything onto him. 

Ten lets himself relax a little, he will survive this.

He sits up and squints his eyes at Winwin. Winwin raises his eyebrow in response but still waits for Ten to speak first. 

“Ok. I believe you… but what do you want? We could’ve just gone to a hotel to fuck. Why bring me all the way to… Hell?”

Winwin can’t help but chuckle at the irony of Ten’s question.

“You’re the one who said you were going to Hell actually. So I offered to bring you here as my pet, and you agreed. Remember?”

 _Fuck. That’s right._

“There’s no way I could’ve known you were serious,” Ten sighs. 

“No, but you wanted me to be,” He walks slowly towards the bed and stops by the foot, “And here I am.”

Ten stares into Winwins eyes. The same intense eyes that drew him in last night, and made him follow him literally to hell. Seriously what the fuck Ten. He frowns slightly and crosses his arms across his chest.

“So what, you want to keep me here as a sex slave or something?” Ten tries to say jokingly, but his body is trembling. When did that happen?

“I said pet, not sex slave.”

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

“Very different. A pet is a companion, I would take care of you. I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he says seriously, “I won’t hurt you.”

Ten takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 

“Wha— What if I want to leave?” He asks tentatively, squeezing his arms. 

Winwin studies Ten. He suspected that Ten has been hurt before, he can just sense these kinds of things, but his posture now confirms it. He looks so small at the end of his large bed, eyes closed and arms wrapped around himself. 

“If you want to leave you can,” he says calmly.

Ten opens his eyes wide in surprise and his mouth drops open, “Really?”

“Of course. I only brought you back here because when I offered, even as a joke, you looked like you really did want to get away,” Winwin continues, “But I want you to know, if it weren’t for me bringing you here there’s no way you would ever end up in Hell. You’re good, Ten.”

Ten takes a sharp inhale at Winwin’s words. 

He’s been struggling with that idea for the past few years. Ten doesn’t feel good anymore. 

He doesn’t feel much in general anymore. 

Winwin looks powerful at the end of the bed. Defined muscles, strong aura, firm stance, unwavering gaze. He looks sure of himself in every way. He looks like he couldn’t be bothered to try to trick him. 

_Fuck it._

“I want a glass of water and a hot bath… please.”

Winwin smiles, “Whatever you want Ten.”

.

Ten emerges from his long hot bath as if a switch has been flipped, all signs of weariness from earlier gone.

Winwin hands Ten a white fuzzy robe, then leads him to the attached dressing room, “I had my men bring in a selection for you.”

At the end of the dressing room is a section for Ten, filled with various leather, zippered, and ripped jeans hanging right next to an assortment of robes in different colors and materials. 

“Why aren’t there any shirts?” Ten laughs, shifting through the clothes. 

“We don’t really do shirts here.”

Winwin’s bare chest serves as a testament, he looks extremely comfortable topless. It is hot in Hell after all.

“And I can just walk around in this?” Ten’s hand stops at a sheer black robe that doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. 

“You’ll spend most of your time in here,” he gestures back to the large bedroom. “And anyway, aside from the throne room, front parlor, and kitchen, all on the first floor, the palace is empty of anyone else. You can roam freely.” 

“Empty?”

“I’ll give you a tour after we eat.”

On cue Ten feels his stomach rumble. His only reminder that his body needs food. That he needs to eat. 

There is food on the small table in the middle of the room by the time they exit the dressing room. 

“I have instructed the kitchen staff to deliver food at certain times. You can write down your preferences later. I’ll try to be with you for most meals.”

“Hmmm..” Ten hums while looking at the dish. It looks like a regular steak, but undecorated. Nice and simple. He begins to eat.

“So, what are the rules to me being your... pet?” Ten asks after a few bites.

“No rules,” Winwin says while taking another bite.

Ten freezes, glass of wine stopped mid-air, while he squints his eyes at Winwin in disbelief. “No rules?”

“No rules. No orders. No punishments. Just.. just be here and welcome me when I get back at the end of the day, that’s all I ask.”

They hold a moment of eye contact then Ten nods, “Okay... Yeah, I can do that.”

.

.

Time moves strangely in Hell. There are no clocks, no day and night. Just eternal darkness with the glow of fire burning in the distance.

Ten sleeps and wakes as he pleases, with no set timing or schedule. Winwin is out most of the time. Ten can imagine he’s busy as a King of Hell, which leaves him alone most of the time. But that’s okay, Ten’s used to being alone by now. 

Ten feels surprisingly at ease in Hell, the darkness comforting. 

His mind has been in a dark place for a long time now, and he always feels bad during the day. 

During the day you are expected to be active and work. Do something productive. Strive for success. 

He used to work tirelessly day and night chasing success, achieving success. Everyone had high hopes for him, including himself. 

Ten much prefers the night now. 

At night there are no expectations, the world is at rest. With everyone else sleeping he can freely be himself at night without any guilt. Guilt of being unproductive. Letting everyone down. Letting himself down. 

Now living in an eternal night, free of judgement, free to do nothing, he feels a sense of peace. 

He hasn’t done anything in years, not anything he was supposed to. 

All he’s done was continue living.

.

.

“I see you found the body chains,” Winwin smirks when he sees Ten lounging on the velvet chaise lounge, a glass of red wine cradled in one hand.

Winwin just got back from disciplining some low level gremlins, but all irritation immediately disappears when his eyes land on Ten. 

Ten is wearing a diamond garter belt thigh chain, that peeks out under his short white silk robe, which quickly became his favorite. He is also wearing a thin diamond choker Winwin gifted him. 

He hasn’t taken it off once. 

“Why would you keep such pretty jewelry a secret from me?” Ten pouts while sitting upright, moving his body slowly intentionally. The robe is tied loosely and one sleeve slightly slips from his shoulder. Winwin’s gaze darkens at the sight.

“It wasn’t intentional, kitten, simply slipped my mind.”

Ten loves when Winwin calls him kitten, how softly the pet name comes out from his mouth. It slipped one day as Winwin stroked Ten’s hair while he was waking up, and Ten nearly purred. It felt right for the occasion, for their arrangement. 

“How does it look on me?” Ten stands up and points one leg in front of his other, displaying the chain resting on his thigh, the belt on his waist still hidden under the robe. 

Ten’s body is thin yet toned, and he holds himself elegantly, light on his feet. His front bangs rest softly just over his eyes, which sparkle even in the dim glow of the room. His lips are wet and stained from the red wine he’s been drinking, corners curled up in a smile. His piercings have all been changed to diamonds to match the garter belt, studs lining his ear shells and thin chains dangling from the bottom of his ears. 

“Pretty, just like you.”

Ten smiles brightly at the compliment. Winwin is always amazed by how quickly he can go from sexy and teasing to blushing and cute. Either way, Ten is always bright. 

Winwin grows more fond of Ten the more he sees him. Every time he arrives back to the bedroom Ten greets him warmly from wherever he is, alleviating all fatigue from his mind. He doesn’t expect anything from Winwin, not strength or even affection. He just takes him as he is. 

Winwin can see a sadness in his eyes sometimes, can sense a darkness in his mind, but there is also a pureness in his smiles and laughter. A light playfulness in his actions. A sincere want to be loved, but a fear of asking for it. 

Winwin doesn’t think he can give Ten what he needs, but he’ll give him all that he can. 

“Can I see the rest of it, kitten?” Winwin asks as he reaches Ten, stroking a hand through his hair. 

Ten leans into the touch, nuzzling against Winwin, while leading the hand towards his loose belt. 

Winwin takes that as a yes and slowly unravels the robe, letting it open to reveal Ten’s blushing body. 

Winwin takes in the full sight of the diamond garter on Ten, slowly tracing over it. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Ten starts getting antsy in anticipation, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Winwin looks entranced and he wants to keep it that way. 

His body is much more honest however, and his cock, surrounded by diamonds, steadily hardens under the attention. 

Winwin smirks but doesn’t address it. Instead he quickly wraps an arm around Ten’s waist, and slowly squeezes his ass. 

There is a jeweled butt plug fit snugly between Ten’s cheeks, a nice touch Winwin thinks. 

“I see you’re all ready for me,” Winwin whispers into his ear.

Ten answers with a soft moan, and wraps his arms around Winwin’s neck, “I’m always ready for you.”

Winwin lets out an almost primal grown at those words, and leans down to kiss Ten.

They start deeply right away, licking into each other’s mouths and sucking each other in. With each encounter they want more and more of every bit of each other. 

Winwin slots a clothed thigh between Ten’s legs, and Ten can’t help but whine and start rutting against it. He’s been sitting with the garter on and butt-plug in for hours now, and each shift of movement just made him anticipate Winwin’s touch even more. He drank wine as a distraction, but it only served to make him hornier. 

Winwin pulls away from the kiss to watch Ten work himself up against him. He lets out a whine at the loss of Winwin’s lips and instead starts lightly sucking on his neck. 

Winwin slowly pulls out the plug and replaces it with two of his fingers, starting to massage Ten’s insides. 

“Winwin,” Ten moans. He stills his grinding as Winwin prods inside him. 

“Yes kitten?” Winwin hums, continuing to rub inside of him. Then he rubs directly on Ten’s prostate. 

“Fuck,” Ten moans, his breath getting more shallow. He squeezes tightly onto Winwin’s shoulder. “Please, I need--,” he can’t even finish his thought, but is understood. 

Winwin takes out his fingers and gives Ten another deep, long kiss to stop his whimpers. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need.” 

He easily lifts Ten up as if he weighs nothing and carries him over to the bed, then promptly kisses him again, hungrily, devouring, the thought of Ten needy and waiting for him driving him mad. 

He stands up and slowly takes off his pants, Ten’s eyes fixated on his crotch, his hand on the zipper, how his hard dick springs free once he slides down his pants and underwear together. No matter how many times they have sex Ten marvels at its size every time. 

Winwin gets back on the bed and spreads Ten’s legs, sliding in immediately, inch by inch until Ten is filled to the hilt with Winwin’s giant cock. Ten moans at the stretch, the feeling of being freshly penetrated, satisfied that the empty space from the plug is finally gone. He feels so full. 

The slide in was easy and Ten rolls his hips down into him, moaning at the rub against his walls, so Winwin doesn’t wait to drive into Ten, creating a steady and fast pace of thrusting in, just what Ten wants.

“You take me so well,” Winwin grunts, “So good for me. Such a good pet.”

Ten shudders at his words, a pleased tingle running through his body. “I’m good?” 

“The best. You’re perfect,” Winwin kisses him again, then lifts his hips to take him even deeper. “So perfect for me.”

Ten’s breath is nearly gone, reduced to a panting moaning mess, nails digging into Winwin’s biceps as his prostate is repeatedly stimulated. His eyes are tearing up and he starts shaking in sensitivity, thinking he can come like this even without being touched.

Ten opens his eyes and is taken by how beautiful Winwin looks like this, too, skin glistening with sweat as he concentrates, all eyes on Ten. Winwin notices Ten’s eyes on him and licks his lips, then leans down in a new angle to kiss and mark him up. Ten’s hard and leaking cock is now being rubbed between their bodies, and his head is getting dizzy from pleasure. Ten wraps his arms around his neck and hangs on for dear life. It feels like his breath is being stolen. 

He starts to feel the heat building in him, the urge to release crashing over his body. He clenches down and stutters out Winwin’s name.

Winwin feels the squeeze and whispers in his ear, “Let it all out, kitten. Come for me.”

That’s all it takes to push Ten over the edge, letting out a scream of pleasure as Winwin fucks him through his orgasm, jolting his whole body. Soon after Winwin stills, his own orgasm hits and he releases into Ten who's now laying lax, dazed and fucked out. 

Once Winwin finishes he kisses away the tears streaming his face, whispering words of praise to Ten as he comes down. 

Winwin slowly pulls out then gently strokes Ten’s hair, “Do you want me to give you a bath?”

Coming to, Ten takes a grounding breath and nods, “Yes please.”

.

.

Ten brings books from the library into the bedroom, and spends most of his time reading while Winwin is out. Out doing what exactly, Ten doesn’t know. He doesn’t ask.

First he picked up some human books, texts from ancient philosophers discussing the proper ways of living and thinking. 

Ethics, Morality, Enlightenment, Nirvana. Man’s Nature. The Nature of the Universe. True Goodness. True Evil. Punishment. Reward. 

Then he found even older original handwritten text. Archives of the very first punishments, documenting the sin of man. The creation of the different Zones and separation depending on the degree of sin. The addition of Zones and more extreme punishments as humans became more and more evil over time. 

The books are now stacked around the velvet chaise lounge, where Ten stretches out to lounge during the days. With no internet or television the silence would be too overbearing if he did nothing. Reading is the easiest way to pass time and occupy his mind. 

He has so much time. 

Ten also spends a lot of time dancing. 

There is a very large gold gilded mirror propped against one of the walls. Ten hasn’t seen such a large mirror in a very long time. He can’t help but stare at himself in it and make some shapes. Curious if he still has his proper form. If he can still dance as well as he used to.

Ten is surprised by how well he still dances, then laughs at himself. Of course he can still dance, he’s been training in dance since he was a child. He was recognized as one of the best, still is one of the best dancers in the world.

But he stopped. 

Stopped feeling the passion he once felt towards dance, the drive to work tirelessly and be the best. 

Stopped feeling the joy that came along with dance, the rush from performing and pride of achievement. 

Stopped feeling comfortable being watched by millions of eyes, not knowing the intentions behind them. 

Ten stopped feeling safe on stage.  
So he stopped dancing. 

But alone with all the time in Hell, under warmly dimmed lights and in front of a giant beautiful mirror to himself, Ten starts to dance again. 

And he loves it.

He is dancing freely, immersed in the action for itself — for himself — and remembers how much he loves dancing at the core. How much fun it is. How expressive it is. 

Ten doesn’t even notice when Winwin walks in while he’s dancing most days, robe ditched and moving gracefully in just his black briefs. He’s stopped even looking in the mirror after a while, opting to just close his eyes and dance in the middle of the room. Winwin quietly leans against the entryway, not wanting to break his focus, and watches on in awe. 

_Ten truly is beautiful._  
_Way too beautiful for hell._

.

.

Winwin meets with his brother Yang Yang, the Head Reaper who supervises the collection of souls, for their regular check in.

He doesn’t realize that he’s smiling more than normal until his brother points it out.

“What’s going on? You never smile when we meet to discuss soul collecting. In fact you barely smile, ever, ” Yangyang raises an eyebrow in suspicion. 

Winwin immediately schools his face to its regular neutral state. This was his last appointment of the day and he was excited to see Ten’s dance routine. He’s been going over it for a while now and promised to let him see it in full today. He was happy, but didn’t realize he was smiling on the job. Smiling in public. 

“It’s nothing. Even I smile sometimes,” Winwin rolls his eyes. 

Yangyang doesn’t look convinced, but drops the subject. “By the way, it is almost time for brother Kun and Xiaojun to descend and visit us.”

“How nice of them to grace us with their divine presence,” Winwin scowls. Then he realizes that Kun probably wouldn’t approve of him keeping a human pet. Not that he cares about Kun’s opinion anyway, but still. 

He’d rather not have that argument.  
He’d rather just keep Ten to himself. 

“When exactly are they coming again?” Winwin asks. 

Now Yangyang knows something is up. Winwin never cares when their brothers arrive, and just reluctantly takes them as they come. “They descend on the night of the new moon, and will stay for two weeks.” 

Winwin doesn’t let his irritation show on his face, but Yangyang can tell that he’s more annoyed than usual. He can’t imagine why though.

.

Once again Winwin’s mood is lifted immediately by Ten. As soon as he enters his bedroom he is welcomed with a kiss and then ushered to the chaise lounge.

Ten is wearing a pair of black leggings that stop at his ankles, and he even put some black smokey eye makeup on. It wasn’t the same as his stage costume but it was something to get him in the mood. 

“Okay, so I haven’t performed in years, and this can probably still be better, but, fuck, I really want to show you this piece,” Ten says. He is visibly nervous, bouncing softly on his feet, but he also seems excited, exuding positive energy and confidence. 

“I can’t wait to see it,” Winwin smiles, and lets himself relax in the chair. He’s seen bits and pieces of Ten’s dancing, but he always stops once he notices Winwin’s presence. 

Ten walks to the antique standing record player against the wall, right next to the mirror, and takes a deep breath before placing the needle on the classical record. 

Claire de lune by Claude Debussy.

As the music starts he gracefully takes his place in the center of the room, getting into character, and waits for his starting que. 

43 seconds in, right on his note, Ten begins to dance. 

The movement starts out slowly with the gentle introduction. His fingers softly stroke the air, making it move with him, becoming one with the space around him. His bare feet move lightly but surely, confident without force. 

Everything is perfect. Ten’s body knows these moves, loves these moves, and he lets the sound of the piano sway him. He can do this, he’s doing it, and he’s so happy. 

Winwin is mesmerized by the softness of Ten’s steps, how he seems to float. He starts to wonder if Ten secretly has wings himself.

Then the music begins to crescendo, piano harsher and more aggressive, and Ten begins to falter. He grits through the brief crescendo, foot a little heavier, but struggles to go back to the lightness that follows.

The soft return doesn’t last long, quickly spiraling into and even more aggressive and fast paced crescendo. The notes of music repeat quickly and dizzyingly, and Ten himself seems to be getting lost.

Then he stops. 

Standing still, Ten’s chest heaves heavily as he gasps for air, tears streaming down his face.

Winwin immediately stands up and runs to Ten, now crouching on the floor with his hands to his eyes as Claire de lune continues in the background. 

“Ten, baby, what’s wrong?” Winwin asks gently, hands hovering around Ten as he crouches down as well. “Is it okay if I touch you? Can I give you a hug?” 

Ten cries even harder at Winwin’s soft voice, at his words, but takes his hands away from his eyes. Through the tears he can see the genuine concern and confusion on Winwin, and can’t help but leap into his open arms, pushing them both down onto the ground. 

“I-- I--,” Ten starts, but he can’t even get two words out.

“Shhhh, You’re okay.. I’m here for you…” Winwin comforts Ten, softly rubbing his back. 

“I really wanted to show you my dance,” Ten sobs quietly, trying to calm down, “I really wanted to. But I can’t. Fuck, sorry, this is so stupid, I don’t know why I’m crying right now,” Ten rambles. 

“It’s okay to cry Ten. Just cry if you need to, it’s not stupid. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You're safe,” Winwin continues to soothe. 

Just when Ten thinks he is calming down, Winwin’s words of comfort bring on a new set of tears. 

Neither of them care that they are lying on the floor.  
Winwin holds Ten as he continues to cry, letting out repressed emotions and tears.  
He doesn't let go even after his breathing steadies.

.

.

Ten feels even more like he can trust Winwin after that episode, and Winwin feels an even stronger urge to protect Ten.

Before Winwin would only come back once every three or so days, but since then Winwin makes sure to return home at some point every day. 

Now that he’s back everyday he notices that often Ten will leave meals untouched. Instead of questioning or nagging him to eat, he naturally invites Ten to sit in his lap during meals, and will offer Ten every other bite. If Ten still doesn’t want to eat he doesn’t force it, but more often than not Ten will happily eat as he’s fed his favorites. 

They talk more now than they used to. They still have plenty of sex, getting each other off in one way or another, but now that Winwin is here every day it isn’t a given every time they see each other. And instead of going to sleep right after they stay up and talk until they drift into dreamless nights.

.

Winwin doesn’t usually talk about the details of his job, not wanting to scare Ten away, but some nighst Ten is especially curious. Tonight he asks about the standards of judging.

“So the souls who arrive here were already damned to Hell before even meeting you? Who decides that then?”

“Everyone is always being watched--”

“--by God?” Ten interrupts.

“As if,” Winwin scoffs. “Everyone starts with an angel and demon. They observe someone until the person comes of age. By then the soul is more or less formed. Even when a drastic life event happens, it may bring out another part of someone, but the core remains the same...”

Ten stiffens a bit, but is listening intently.

“...Once a person comes of age the angel and demon watching over them decide whether they will likely enter heaven or hell. This is not the final judgement, just a preliminary assessment. Depending on this judgement, if they think they are meant for heaven an angel will continue looking after them, and if hell then the demon sticks with them.”

“Oh…” Ten whispers, “So those likely to enter and be punished in hell are just abandoned without any guidance?”

“Well not exactly. The demon will still watch after the human, and try to guide them in a way that will minimize their damage upon humanity and ultimately their punishment in hell. The problem is, a lot of people don’t want help or guidance. Even when given obvious signs, what humans sometimes call a gut feeling, or warning signs as cautions they carry on their own way. Some people are just bad by nature, and do terrible evil things. That’s why when they do finally make it in front of me for their ultimate judgement their pathetic pleas mean nothing. They all had a chance to be decent and choose not to. Their overseeing demon directly testifies to it.” 

Ten is silent for a moment, and Winwin wonders if he shared too much about the process. But before he can backtrack anything Ten speaks again.

“Is it possible for people to be punished while they’re still living?” Ten asks.

“No. While living, humans only get guidance, not punishment. Earthly karma is it’s own force that reacts on the energy of the world. Although some may see it as being connected to the divine it’s actually the universes’ own consequence for human behavior. It’s a strange cosmic action-reaction pattern but it isn’t caused by us. Angels and demons simply observe and take note of a combination of someone’s character, actions and intentions.”

“Oh, okay… so no one being directly decides to punish a human? For doing something wrong? Because they're not good enough?”

“No.. It’s not our place to interfere with the living. Well, not any more at least...”

“Good to know.”

“Why?”

“Umm…” Ten wants to talk about it with Winwin, about everything. About how he’s felt being told he was good his whole life and believed it until recently, but now he feels like he’s spent the past four years being punished. About how he constantly questions everything about his past and character now, wondering if he never was good after all, if he deserved what happened to it, if he was asking for it. 

He wants to talk about what happened to him that night, how horrible and disgusting he felt, how hard it was for him to continue living… but he doesn’t know how to start. If it's too much. If it all happened for no particular reason then why did it have to happen. Why him if he was good. There was no warning. No signs. Nothing.

He wants to talk but he doesn’t. 

Winwin can see the hesitation on Ten, in how he bites his lip and furrows his brows. He wants to know what’s on Ten’s mind but the last thing he wants to do is pry it out of him. They're getting closer, he doesn't want to scare him off. He can wait. 

“You don’t have to answer, no need to talk about anything you don't want. But you can ask me anything you want and I’ll answer you,” Winwin smiles softly, then places a soft kiss on his forehead. 

Ten’s whole body relaxes. He’s so grateful to Winwin, and lets him know as much with a soft kiss on the lips and a quiet thank you. 

Cuddled together in bed, they look into each other’s eyes for a long moment before lightly kissing and drifting to sleep. 

Eyes can’t explain everything in detail, but their emotions carry through.

.

.

Ten usually stays in the library or their room, but he suddenly has the urge to seek out Winwin on his own today. Winwin said he’d be alone in the office all day without any meetings, so why wait? Why not go to him for once?

He walks through the grand hallways wearing only pink satin shorts and his diamond choker, along with some long thin necklaces layered as well. His hair has grown so it’s long and fluffy, almost completely covering his multiple diamond studs. 

He considered throwing on a gold body chain or eye makeup as well since he’s popping in for a surprise, but when he sat in front of the mirror he just didn’t want to go through with it. He doesn’t usually wear makeup anyway, just once in a while when he’s in the mood. But on some days he has a jarring feeling when he looks in the mirror, as if he’s seeing his own face for the first time, as if he’ll lose his own face if he wears makeup, and today is one of those days. 

Honestly, this visit is more for himself than it is for Winwin. He wants Winwin to look at him. To see him. Make sure he still can see him.

His bare feet don’t make a sound against the black marble floor. It’s cooling amongst the overall heat that envelops the palace, and all of hell. The halls are silent, empty, not another creature in sight.

When Ten approaches the office he slows down, hesitating.  
Winwin must be busy. Maybe he’ll be annoyed that Ten sought him out instead of just waiting in the room. 

_But he said I can go anywhere. And it’s normal for pets to seek out their masters right? Right._

There is no door, just an open archway into a large office room. At the far end Winwin sits behind a large desk, eyes fixed on an ancient looking giant book, bare chested with his wings folded behind him. 

Winwin keeps reading, only glancing at him once to acknowledge Ten’s appearance. He could feel Ten’s presence approaching even from down the hall, could feel his hesitation right outside the archway. He’s curious about Ten’s approach, and wants to see what he’ll do.

Ten meets eyes with Winwin and gives a cute smile. While Winwin keeps reading he takes in the room. Slowly, softly, he walks around and lets his eyes roam the bookshelf stacked with scrolls and ancient text. There are also stone statues and marble busts, one he easily recognizes as Winwin. He stands in front of it and stares at the carved out features. 

There’s a large painting on the wall too, a portrait of Winwin and another, both with serious expressions. Ten takes a sharp breath and walks closer. What’s striking about this painting is that Winwin’s wings, the same shape and form, are white here instead of black. 

Winwin and the other in the painting stand side by side barefoot in all white clothing, in what looks like an all white and tan marble setting, 

Ten looks closely at his face and even though the expression is the same, Winwin looks younger. His eyes are rounder, his cheeks slightly chubbier. How long ago was this painted Ten wonders, but doesn’t say anything out loud. 

Ten looks down at the bottom engraved plate in the frame. It reads:

**Winwin & Kun  
Kingdom of Light**

Ten tilts his head then takes a peek at Winwin, but he is still reading. Clearly he doesn’t mind Ten’s presence.

Ten’s next destination is the large window right behind Winwin. He takes a seat in the alcove window ledge and peers outside. The view here is different from that of his room. While his room looks out over more palace landscape, from here he can see the entrance gate, with a seemingly endless line of creatures. Holy shit. 

This time when he turns to look, Winwin is staring right back with an eyebrow raised. 

“Hi,” he says lamely.

“Hi,” Winwin responds, amused.

Ten doesn’t know what to say and Winwin can see this, so he speaks instead.

“Miss me?” Winwin smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Ten breathes, “I missed you.”

It’s odd, the idea of someone missing him is so foreign he forgot how nice it feels. Winwin reaches out his hand for Ten to take and pulls him in to himself until he’s standing between his legs.

“So sweet of you to visit me,” Winwin hums, rubbing Ten’s bare sides. “You look so cute in your little pink shorts, so pretty,” Winwin praises, then moves his hands to grope Ten’s ass, bare beneath the shorts.

The action makes Ten squirm, putting his hands on Winwin’s shoulders to lean on him while his ass gets kneaded.

“Oh? And what’s this?” Winwin chuckles when he feels the diamond butt plug nestled between Ten’s cheeks. “I wish I could play with you right now kitten, but I have to finish going through this stuff.” Kun’s visit is approaching and for once he’s reviewing everything they will discuss ahead of time to hopefully shorten his stay.

Ten knew Winwin would be busy, but he came prepared.

“I know.. I have an idea though, and it shouldn’t distract you from your work.”

Winwin cocks his head to the side curiously, still softly groping Ten’s ass unconsciously, “I’m listening.”

“Well, you can continue working, and I can just, you know, sit on your cock maybe,” Ten stutters out with his head turned to the side. He didn’t think he’d be this embarrassed.

Winwin’s hold on Ten tightens at the suggestion, a heat rising within him. “You wanna try cock warming me.” It isn’t a question.

Ten nods his head in confirmation. They’ve been getting along extremely well, much better than he ever expected. He feels closer to Winwin than he’s felt with anyone before, and somehow wants to feel even closer. “I thought it would be nice,” is what he settles on saying.

Winwin raises a hand to cup Ten’s face, which Ten immediately nuzzles into. Instead of just heat, there’s a warmth that settles within Winwin. He’s surprised by how affected he is just by Ten’s suggestion. How much affection he feels for the small human in front of him.

“I’d love to have you sit on my cock while I work,” Winwin answers, “I trust that you’ll be good and sit quietly so I can focus?”

Ten is relieved and delighted that Winwin agrees, “Yup, I won’t do anything, I’ll just sit quietly and you can continue with your work. I just want to be with you.”

They gaze into each other's eyes for a moment and Ten sees an expression he’s never seen on Winwin before, and it makes him flustered. He feels overwhelmed by his gaze, and leans in to give him a kiss. 

While Ten kisses him Winwin unzips his pants to pull out his cock. He pulls Ten even closer to him until he’s straddled over his lap on his knees, and slowly pulls out the plug from him, setting it on his desk. Ten softly moans at the feeling.

Winwin detaches from the kiss and holds out a hand in front of Ten. Without needing instructions, Ten gathers saliva in his mouth and dribbles it onto Winwin’s palm, making it moist with his spit. Winwin rubs the now spit covered hand over his cock to slick it up. There's some left over lube in Ten from when he put the plug in earlier but he wants to make sure. He also loves the feeling of Ten’s spit on him, it always makes him just a little harder. 

After repeating this act a few times the spit mixes with his precome, his cock fully hard and rearing. Ten loves watching Winwin do this, pumping himself to hardness, loves watching his already large cock grow even larger as it hardens. 

Although Ten came prepped and plugged, Winwin fingers Ten too for good measure. His fingers are much longer after all, reach further than Ten could’ve by himself. He also just enjoys fingering Ten, watching the cute expression of pleasure on his face, watching it change to a needier expression when the fingers aren't enough. 

Ten squirms in his hold then squeezes around his fingers, “W-wait, stop. You’re gonna make me cum,” he whines softly. “I’m ready now. Wanna sit. Want your cock.”

Winwin laugh softly and pulls his fingers out, now just pulling Ten’s loose shorts to the side. He guides Ten down onto him, holding his hips to steady Ten as he sinks onto his cock, this position making it reach even deeper inside than normal. Ten takes a shuddering deep breath as he bottoms out, adjusting himself until he’s settled, letting out a pleased sigh once he is.

“Comfortable?” Winwin grins, peppering kisses along his neck.

“Mmhmmm,” Ten hums, content. His legs are wrapped loosely behind Winwin, and his arms gently around his neck. He leans in so that his head is nestled between Winwin’s neck and shoulder. 

“Good. Now be a good boy while I work,” Winwin kisses the top of his head, then goes back to reviewing. 

Ten feels weirdly at peace in this position. Although he feels Winwin much deeper than usual, the stretch wide and constant, hole completely filled, he doesn’t feel the need to roll his hips or move for friction. He doesn’t feel the need to do anything actually, just be, and feel. 

Feel himself and Winwin connected.  
Feel their heartbeats syncing as one.

Winwin rubs a gentle pattern along Ten, mindlessly scratching his back as he reads. He never gave much thought to cock warming before, never felt the urge for it, but having Ten here with him like this.. It is really nice. He feels more relaxed and even this boring review doesn’t feel annoying. 

It doesn’t take long for Ten to drift asleep, slightly slumped and leaning against Winwin’s chest. Winwin smiles fondly at the sight, happy with how comfortable Ten is with him. Then he continues reading.

.

.

They never say “I love you”.

But it’s implied.

Owners always love their pets, and pets love their owners.

An unconditional love that words can’t really explain. 

Complete trust. Comfort. Care.

They never say “I love you”. 

But that’s okay.

They know from their every day actions. The way they look at each other.

They know from the trust they've built, vulnerabilities they've shared.

They know from the sincerity in their voices. The confirmation in their words. 

They never say "I love you".

They are too afraid.

They have told themselves for so long that they are 'unlovable'.

They know that it's not true now, that they are lovable, because they feel it from each other.

They know.

.

.

“Hello brothers,” Kun greats first, followed by Xiaojun.

“Hello brothers,” Winwin and Yangyang return the greetings.

Winwin welcomes Kun and Xiaojun even more coldly than usual. He always found these meetings tedious and unnecessary, but now even more so. All they do is poke their nose around where it doesn’t belong. Matters of Hell don’t concern him, and Winwin has everything under control. He wants them in and out.

He doesn’t know how long Ten has stayed with him, hasn’t been keeping track of time, but he knows it hasn’t been long enough. He wants Ten to stay. 

The night before he asked Ten to stay in the room, to not even go to the library. 

Ten agreed without even questioning why. The seriousness and slightest hint of desperation in Winwin’s expression was enough.

Ten doesn’t come out much anyway, his favorite books already gathered in their room, and the four of them are in a special blue and white decorated room on the other side of the palace, used only for the occasion when his brothers come, yet Winwin can’t help but be extra conscious of every sound and presence nearby as Kun drones on, talking about matters of Heaven that Winwin simply doesn’t care about. He’s no longer part of that world.

Kun pauses for a moment. Winwin is always neutral, cold and distant, but this time he can also sense that he’s slightly annoyed? Angry? He can’t tell, but there’s a tick in his jaw that isn’t usually present.

Xiaojun and Yangyang mostly just listen in during these gatherings, and are surprised when Kun stops speaking, and even more surprised by what he says next.

“You know, you can always come home if you want.”

“This is my home,” Winwin says matter of factly.

“You know what I mean.. It’s not like you were banned from Heaven.”

Winwin scoffs, “Really? Because it sure feels like it. Even before I was assigned to take over down here. Told to leave.”

“That’s not true! Everyone just--”

“This is my home.” Winwin cuts Kun off, glaring at him. He stands up and puts on an obviously fake smile as he says, “You must be tired from the descent down. We will continue tomorrow.” He drops the fake smile as soon as he finishes speaking then promptly leaves. They already know where the guest rooms are. 

“Welcome home,” Ten greets normally as Winwin enters their room, but he can immediately tell that something’s wrong. Ten can feel anger radiating off of Winwin as soon he enters, an edge of annoyance that isn’t usually there.

Winwin looks up at Ten, who’s now sitting up from his lying position on the velvet chaise lounge, red satin shorts matching the red of the seat, with a glass of red wine in hand. He puts the glass on the side table next to him and gets up to approach him. Ten looks concerned, and Winwin already feels better. 

“I’m back kitten,” Winwin sighs into the kiss Ten gives him, a little deeper than the usual welcome back peck. 

They pull away and look at each other, communicating through eyes, before leaning in for another kiss. Winwin grabs his thighs and picks Ten up, holding him close without breaking the kiss. Ten gives Winwin multiple quick pecks, hoping his kisses can lighten his mood a bit.

Winwin walks to the couch and sits them down together with Ten in his lap. He finally breaks the kiss to dive into Ten’s neck, feeling the urge to mark him all over. Ten moans and simply leans his head back, giving Winwin more space. Winwin growls at the act of submission and bites Ten in the junction between his shoulder and neck, harder than ever before, leaving clear marks. The bite catches Ten by surprise, making him let out a high scream of sharp pain, but his stomach flutters at the clear claim on him. Winwin licks at the bite to soothe the pain, then continues to lick up and all over Ten’s neck, nibbling and sucking hickies in between kisses. 

“You’re mine,” Winwin says roughly without thinking. 

Ten pulls his face up so that they can kiss again. “I’m yours.”

.

The following days continue more or less the same. Winwin meets with his brothers, discusses tedious politics, and cuts them off as soon as they try to bring up anything personal. Then he goes back home to Ten, holding onto him desperately, as if someone can take him away any day. He clings on to him, makes love to him even more tenderly.

Ten wonders what’s going on, why he can’t leave the room, and what has Winwin so on edge... but he doesn’t ask.  
Winwin will tell him when the time is right.

.

Ten decides to make a new dance.

It’s been bothering him that he couldn’t complete his dance for Winwin, and now especially when he’s been so on edge he wants to do this for him. For himself. 

It’s been so long since he’s made an original choreography, all of his dances since arriving here besides the routine he re-learned have been him just freestyling, letting the music embrace and sway his body. 

But now he wants to show something complete to Winwin, wants to show him something beautiful, wants to be beautiful for him, make him dazed and in awe. 

He wants to make something concrete, start to finish, to remind himself that he can.  
He knows that he can. 

The first step is choosing a song. He shifts through familiar composers and titles in Winwin’s record collection, playing snippets of each to see which one feels right. He wants something light yet still deep, simple yet complex. Something fitting for them.

Serenade for Strings in E Major, Op. 22 by Dvorak 

As soon as it starts he knows this is the song. Although it’s in a major key, characteristically bright sounding, there’s a brooding undertone. It’s charming, playful, yet serious. He likes it more as it continues to play. It switches moods to something seeking,more turbulent, a clear conversation between instruments, flirting even, a give and take, then it settles back into a familiar tone from the start, calm and at peace. It’s perfect. 

Every day when Winwin leaves, Ten dances in front of the giant mirror again, looping the song to the point where he could probably play it on piano from memory. His moves are graceful and emotional, mixing contemporary with ballet and anything else that comes to mind. He thinks about communicating his emotions while coming up with the dance, and wants to convey comfort and reassurance. That he's there for him. 

That he loves him.

After dancing non-stop, he finishes the routine in a week.

.

Kun said too much. He knows he did, which is why he’s seeking out Winwin to apologize after their yelling match. He just wants to reconcile their relationship. He understands it won’t be that easy, but nothing will change if they don’t even try, and talk about what happened in the past.

Kun thinks it was all caused by a misunderstanding, he wasn't even aware of what was going on, but Winwin thinks he never actually cared and is just full of shit. He’d rather just move on and leave the past in the past, and maybe Kun should too, but he refuses to leave their relationship this bad and let it continue to get worse over the years. 

But first he needs to say sorry. 

He is about to knock on the door to Winwin’s room but stops when he hears two voices speaking. He feels the presence of a human. 

“I made a new dance this week! I really want to show you,” the unfamiliar voice says happily. 

“That’s amazing!” Kun is shocked by the softness in Winwin’s voice. “Don’t force yourself though. I already saw you dance and it was lovely.”

“Thank you! But I made this dance especially to show you. Especially for us. And I really want to show you. I’m ready,” the other voice says with determination. 

“Okay, I can’t wait to see it,” Winwin replies, voice dripping with fondness.

Kun steps back from the door, frozen for a moment, before walking away. He needs to process what he just heard, the emotions laced in his brother’s few words. He needs to tell his brothers and decide how to approach this. They aren't supposed to interfere with humans anymore, not so directly. Especially not for however long it's been to make Winwin speak to him in such a soft tone. The human has to leave. 

.

Ten positions himself in the center of the room, the same spot as last time, except this time instead of black he is wearing white leggings and no makeup. His hair hangs loosely around his face, but his eyes sparkle even through his bangs.

Winwin can feel the confidence radiating from Ten, and knows that he will be able to complete it this time. His stance is elegant, poised, and sure. At the cue of Tens nod, Winwin puts the needle on the record.

Ten moves immediately with the music, soft steps that quickly turn strong, and gracefully alternating along with the music. His body is truly that of a dancer, and it is emphasized with each single movement, leaving no doubt. 

Ten is a dancer. Ten is meant to dance. 

Ten told him the composition is titled Serenade and Winwin can understand why. The song clearly tells a story, and Ten’s dance amplifies it, personalizes it, fits it to them. Every note, measure, movement, and expression builds and builds beautifully, working together to communicate to him. 

Longing, passion, doubt, reassurance, comfort. His actions are sometimes lighthearted and flirty, then grounded and questioning, going back and forth, trying to find a balance. By the end the dance is comfortable, settled, relaxed. Home.

Winwin doesn’t remember how many years it’s been since he’s cried, decades or maybe even centuries ago, but he cries watching Ten dance. 

He cries because he’s touched. Ten is telling him with his whole body how much he loves him. How much he cares for him.

He cries because he’s sad. He can’t keep Ten locked away here in Hell, can’t keep his beautiful dancing for his eyes only. His art deserves to be seen by the world.

He cries because he knows that Kun stopped outside the door and heard them earlier. Knows that Kun will make him give Ten back to the living world.

He cries because he's never loved anyone as much as he loves Ten, and he knows he won't ever love anyone else.

*

*

.

.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> If people are interested (Kudos and Comments) I'll expand on the story and background more~ Like Ten's past, Ten & Winwin's future, Winwin & Kun's past, etc.
> 
> Twt: ididitforTEN  
> <3


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